


Temper, Temper

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:46:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair and Jim discover the one sure cure for a bad mood...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Temper, Temper

(Standard, all-purpose disclaimer) All pre-existing characters are the property of the creators and producers of "The Sentinel." No copyright infringement is intended. All new characters and situations are the sole property and responsibility of the author. 

Rated NC-17 for m/m content and language. 

## Temper, Temper

by Buffy  


Jim winced as the door slammed. "Hey, Chief, what's up?" He turned on the couch to look at Blair. 

"Nothing's wrong." Blair opened the door to his room -- now used more as an office than a bedroom -- and hurled his backpack at the wall. "Everything's great." He stalked over to the kitchen and yanked open first one cabinet, then another. "Life is just grand," he growled. 

"Good." Jim folded the newspaper and turned in his chair to examine the younger man. Hair more tousled than usual. Accelerated heartbeat, elevated blood pressure ... yeah, his guide was pissed about something. "How was your day?" 

Blair went over to the refrigerator and got out a beer. As he opened it, he said, "Oh, it was perfect. All the computers at the university crashed today. Some of the documents I need for my research are missing, and the librarians don't know if they can get replacement copies." He walked over to the couch and seated himself cross-legged. He raised the bottle to his lips; before he could take a drink, he lowered it and glared at Jim. "Don't do that." 

"Do what?" Jim asked carefully. 

Waving the bottle at him, Blair groped for words. "Sit there looking like you're trying to think of a way to solve my problems for me. I *hate* that, man." 

"Fine." Jim tried to look uninvolved. "What else happened?" 

Blair rubbed a hand over his forehead. "I was proctoring a test yesterday, and I threw out a football player for cheating. His coach came to see me today. We had a little talk." 

"A little talk," Jim repeated. "How'd it go?" 

Blair snorted. "The guy's a self-important, pretentious, no-neck, half-witted, probably hopelessly inbred mouthbreather." He finally took a drink of his beer. "He says if I don't let the guy take the test again, he'll get *me* thrown out." 

"Sounds like a productive talk. Can he do that?" Jim went to stand behind the couch. He put his hands on the other's shoulders and started kneading the tight muscles. 

"No, I checked the rules -- there were other witnesses who saw him cheating, so the best he can do is take the whole class over and would you *stop* that?" Blair pulled away in irritation, setting down his beer bottle forcefully. 

"What?" Jim pulled his hands away. 

"The backrub. It's always goddamn backrubs. Is that your answer to everything?" Blair shot to his feet and started pacing. "I have a bad day, you give me a backrub. I complain about no hot water in the shower, you give me a backrub. I get taken hostage and almost killed, you give me a backrub. My god, if we found out that an asteroid was plummeting toward earth, ensuring the end of life as we know it, you'd turn to me and say, 'Well, Chief, while we're waiting to die, how about a backrub?' Can't you do something *else* once in a while?" 

Jim leaned against the back of the couch. Trying to hold onto his temper, he stared at Blair. "If you don't like backrubs, why didn't you say something?" 

Blair threw his hands in the air. "I don't dislike backrubs, man. I just wish that once in a while you'd try something *else* to make me feel better." 

"Oh, yeah? What did you have in mind?" Jim challenged. 

A little more calmly, Blair shrugged. After a moment's thought, his face lit up. "How about you fuck me?" 

"Blair --" 

"No, really. I want you to fuck me." 

Jim took a deep breath. "Blair, taking into account the fact that we're both more than a little pissed off, how can you be sure that anything will happen?" 

Blair walked over to stand next to Jim. Pulling the bigger man's head down to his level, he whispered, "Jim, I want you to fuck me until all your skin rubs off. I want you to fuck me until I can't walk, until I can't move, until I can't think. I want to feel your cock inside me ... I want to feel your chest against my back, your arms around me, holding me close, holding me down ..." Blair pulled back and studied Jim's face intently, judging the impact of his words. Grinning, he slapped Jim lightly on the shoulder. "Great. I'll go up and get ready. Don't be long, or I'll get started without you." He went up the stairs. 

Jim stared around the living room, then took the stairs two at a time, wondering at exactly what point he'd lost control of their relationship. 

He stopped at the head of the stairs. Blair had removed his shoes and socks and was just unbuttoning his shirt; when he saw Jim, he smiled brilliantly. Letting the shirt hang open, he sat down on the bed and leaned back on his hands. "That didn't take long." 

Rather than going over to him, Jim folded his arms and made himself comfortable against the wall. "So what's wrong with backrubs?" 

Blair sat up straight and gaped at him. "What?" 

"Backrubs. Do you like them or not?" 

"Awww, man, yeah, it's just ..." Jim bit back a smile as he watched the younger man wave his hands around as if he was trying to snatch an explanation out of the air. "It was just the wrong thing at the wrong time, okay?" Jim grunted noncommittally. "Oh, geez, I don't mean it was the *wrong* thing ..." Blair pinched the bridge of his nose. "I really didn't mean to go off on you, Jim. It was just a lousy day, and you were here, and really, I like backrubs fine, I usually get a sore neck from looking up at you anyway --" 

Jim finally gave in to his laughter. Blair stared at him, then started smiling again. "Very funny. Are you coming over here or what?" 

"Might as well." Jim crossed the distance between them and stood looking down at his lover. When Blair started to stand, Jim put his hands on his shoulders and slowly pushed him down again, lowering him until he was lying flat against the mattress. He knelt astride Blair's legs, holding him down. 

Jim ran his fingers along the edges of Blair's open shirt. Pulling it further open, he ruffled Blair's chest hair, drawing light patterns on the other's skin. 

"Jim, I --" Blair's voice broke off and he hissed sharply as Jim tweaked one of his nipples. He tried to reach up to pull Jim closer, but his wrists were still imprisoned in the shirt and he couldn't lift them far enough. "Hey, how about getting this shirt off of me?" 

"Mmmm ... maybe later." Jim bent down until he was on top of the other man and flicked the tip of his tongue against Blair's nipple. Blair gasped, and Jim put a hand against his stomach to hold him in place as his back arched. He circled one nipple with his tongue, the other with his fingertips, alternating nips and pinches and teasing caresses and long, languid sucks. Blair groaned and wriggled helplessly beneath him. 

Slowly nuzzling his way up Blair's neck, Jim finally stripped the shirt completely off, reaching down to unzip his jeans as well. But when Blair reached for Jim's shirt, the bigger man pushed his hands away gently. "Hold on, Chief." Sliding one hand behind Blair's neck, Jim came in for a long, slow kiss, thrusting his tongue against Blair's, stroking the length of it. Blair moaned into Jim's mouth and ran his hands up and down Jim's back. He slid one hand between their closely pressed bodies, pressing against Jim's swelling erection. 

Pulling away reluctantly, Jim got to his knees. Blair looked up at him, eyes dark, breathing hard. His own voice as breathless as if he'd run a mile, Jim said, "Roll over." 

Blair blinked up at him; then, without a word, he complied, lying on his stomach, head pillowed on his arms. Standing up, Jim stripped out of his clothes as quickly as he could before once again straddling Blair's body. He could hear the pounding of the younger man's heart blending with his own; he could almost feel the vibrations surrounding him. 

Hooking his fingers into Blair's jeans and underwear, Jim pulled them down together, drawing the moment out as long as he could. He eased the garments down as far as Blair's knees and left them there, running the palms of his hands lightly the other's thighs ... up, then down, then up again. 

Blair moaned as Jim's hands slowly cupped his buttocks, his thumbs briefly sliding into the cleft of his ass. He closed his eyes and clutched at the pillow as he felt the weight above him shift, and he heard the drawer of the nightstand slide open and then closed. Concentrating on relaxing, he breathed in deeply as Jim once again settled on top of him. "Oh, god, Jim -- please, I need you ..." 

"Shhh. Be patient, sweetheart." Jim squeezed some of the gel into his hand to warm it. After he stroked and coated his own shaft, he traced the ring of Blair's anus lightly before inserting first one finger, then two. 

Without removing his fingers, Jim eased a hand beneath Blair's trembling body, wordlessly urging his lover to rise to his knees. Blair complied, almost sobbing as he thrust back against the digits carefully stretching him. Jim helped him kick free of the jeans. 

Pressing his lips against the back of Blair's neck, Jim gripped his hips with both hands. He placed the tip of his cock at Blair's entrance and slowly pushed forward -- just a few inches at first, then all the way. "Oh, god, nothing ever feels as good as this," Jim thought as he wrapped one arm around Blair's chest and their bodies settled into their rhythm. "Touch yourself, Blair," he whispered into his love's ear. "Touch yourself for me." 

With a hoarse groan, Blair ran his fingers lightly against his cock. Jim placed his hand over Blair's, the gentleness of his touch contrasting with the depth and strength of his thrusts. Biting the smooth flesh of Blair's shoulder, Jim tightened his grip on the other's hand. Blair tilted his head back so it was resting on Jim's shoulder, and Jim bent his head forward to run his tongue against the column of the other's throat, licking up a drop of sweat that trickled down. 

Jim felt Blair's body pause and tense against him, and a second later, he felt the warmth of his partner's orgasm spread over their joined hands. Blair's muscles tightened around him and Jim felt himself being pulled over the edge. Smothering his cry against Blair's neck, Jim thrust once more into his body and came. 

Pulling out of Blair, Jim eased them both to the bed. Blair turned over so he was facing Jim; he laid his hand against Jim's face. Shakily, he smiled up at his lover. "Yeah, I was right. I am *definitely* in a better mood now." 

"Good." Jim reached down for the comforter at the foot of the bed. Pulling it over the both of them, he wrapped his arms around Blair and held him close. "I'll remember this for the next time you try to cop an attitude with me ... just fuck your brains out and you're fine." 

Blair snorted and buried his face against Jim's chest. His voice drowsy, he mumbled, "Funny. It goes both ways, though, so just keep *that* in mind, big guy." 

Jim brushed his lips against Blair's temple. "I hope so," he whispered as he felt Blair tumble into sleep. "I hope so."   
  


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